A Hero Buried Within A Heart
by ViviV
Summary: "I'm not a hero. I never will be." After the war, the Malfoys capture Hermione. Draco struggles on the road to redemption. With a bounty on his head, he goes on the run with Hermione and start their journey together under fake identities:as Muggles. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron, now Aurors, try to track down the disappeared Hermione. Duelling/Fights/Captures/Adventures/Eventual Romance
1. Mudblood Captured

**NOTE: **

**For readers not interested in the background of the story, please skip straight to Chapter 2: The Escape**

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_Timeline: Everything takes place 4 years after the Battle of Hogwarts, and focuses on Draco Malfoy's road to "redemption"._

_Pairings: Draco/Hermione; __Ron/Hermione (Unreciprocated by Hermione); Neville/Luna; Harry/Cho? (Not really a big fan of Ginny, so any other advice?)_

_Locations: Malfoy Manor; Ministry of Magic; Draco's grandparents' mansion; Hogwarts; Random villages/towns; St Mungos; Various forests/woods_

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**Chapter 1 Mudblood Captured**

" – dumbest thing you could have ever done, Narcissa!"

"I had to do _something_! Did you think the other side would welcome us with open arms? I couldn't just sit back and – This will save Draco! This will save _us_!"

"You stupid woman." Lucius Malfoy's cold voice interrupted his wife quietly. "Do you realize what you have done? This will earn you a life sentence in Azkaban."

Narcissa Malfoy looked helplessly at her husband. The usual cold, haughty demeanor had left her. Her sleek blond hair fell from the elegant bun at the back of her head, making her look like a mad woman. Never had Lucius been this angry with her.

"I have a plan," She breathed, "We will return the girl as a sign of good faith– say that we found her unconscious– We will offer information on the Council – a-and the Ministry will spare us of our crimes."

Lucius's eyes were icy as they searched the face of the woman in front of him, "Have you been blinded with stupidity?" He asked, his voice dangerously quiet now, "The girl will talk. And the Ministry will take her word over ours any day. She is a part of Dumbledore's army. _We_ are not."

"I can modify her memory," Narcissa's breaths were quick and shallow, "I can – "

"No." Lucius scowled. "Use your brain, Cissy. The first thing Potter and his little friends are going to do when they get the girl back is to check for signs of a Memory Charm. If they find out you tampered with her memory, there will be hell to pay. You know what they did to Roldolphus Lestrange after Bellatrix died."

Narcissa stifled a small sob at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange's name. The loss of her elder sister is still painful to think about. And to think and she died in the hands of that short, plump, blood-traitor Weasley…

"Then what, Lucius?" She pleaded desperately, the flaws of her plan unraveling in front of her as she slowly realized the consequences, "What now? Should we tell the Council – "

"No!" Lucius hissed angrily. His hands closed upon Narcissa's forearm and squeezed until she gasped in pain, "We tell the Council nothing! They will kill her, and that will anger the other side! Do you think the Ministry will still have mercy on us if we kill Potter's best friend?"

Narcissa's hands trembled as she stared down at the still, unconscious figure lying on her living room floor. "Then we will pin her disappearance on someone else, and say we saved her. It will prove our loyalties!"

"And if they ask us to swear it under Veritaserum?"

Narcissa opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Across the room, silently pressing against the wall stood a pale, blond young man. His pointed face was expressionless as he took in what his parents were arguing about. It was futile, what they were trying to do. No Death Eater was going to escape the wrath of Azkaban and their horrendous guards. He scowled as he gripped his arm where the tattoo was in disgust. What did they hope to do with the captured girl? Hold her hostage until the Ministry agrees to give them immunity? Until Potter swoops in to save the day?

"The wisest thing we can do now is to bring her back to where you found her. Put a Confundus Charm on her so she doesn't know what happened. And hope that she doesn't remember your face." Lucius muttered to himself.

"She _saw_ me," Narcissa whispered fearfully. "Before I stunned her, she saw me. She recognized me – "

Lucius let out an angry sound of exasperation. For a few minutess, none of them spoke.

Draco Malfoy rested his head on the wall behind him, trying not to worry about what's to come. There were dark circles under his tired eyes, and he looked older, a lot older, than a 22-year-old young man. His skin was pale and grey, giving him the impression of someone battling with a severe illness. His hairline was receding quite a bit, exposing the worry lines on his forehead. It has been nearly 4 years since the Battle at Hogwarts. The Ministry captured most of the Death Eaters and sentenced them to Azkaban. What's left of them had gathered together to form the Council. Draco clenched his jaw. The Council was planning on rebelling against the Ministry. With the help of werewolves, giants, and a few reluctant goblins, they think they stand a chance. They are stupid for thinking so, Draco thought as he closed his eyes defiantly.

"Lucius…" Narcissa's voice was trembling, "Lucius, what are we to do…"

"Lock her in the basement for now." Lucius said adamantly, "And deal with her in the morning. Draco will be back any minute now, and we need to discuss what he found out from the Council. _Put your wand away!_" He whispered urgently as Narcissa took out her wand to bind the stunned girl with ropes, "Unless you have a death wish, you better not hurt the Mudblood girl any more than you already have!"

Draco's eyes shot open.

_Mudblood…Potter's best friend…_

It can't be, can it?

Suddenly not caring whether his parent found out he'd been listening or out, he stepped out from out of view and hurried towards the living room, his wand raised.

It can't be… His mother can't be that stupid… Capturing the Mudblood girl that Potter and Weasley were both so fond of, for God knows why, would be catastrophic. If the Ministry found out, it would diminish what little chance they had of switching sides… Draco swallowed as his gaze found the foot of a rather skinny girl lying on the floor. She was missing a shoe.

"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed, her eyes were evasive while she hurriedly attempted to stand between him and the girl, "You're back! I – Your Father and I, we were – "

"Out of the way, Mother." Draco drawled coldly, his eyes moving up to the girl's knees, to the ripped dress robes and the dirty, bloodstained scarf she had on. It seemed like she'd been snagged from an important meeting.

"Draco." Lucius put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from advancing. "It's best if you don't see this." He said shortly and tried to steer his son around.

But it was too late. Through the gap under his father's arm, Draco had caught sight of the brown haired girl lying at his mother's feet, her hair tangled and bushy, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open.

It was Hermione Granger.

"Take her to the basement, Cissy." Lucius urged, tightening his grip on Draco and pushing him out of the room. Narcissa waved her wand rather hastily at Hermione, making her limp body float a few inches from the floor and towards the basement of the Malfoy Manor.

Stunned with surprise, Draco's stony gray eyes followed Hermione all the way. He couldn't believe it. Granger – Hermione Granger – in his house, as their victim – their hostage…

"What are you going to do with her?" He frowned at his father.

"Never mind that. It's been taken care of." Lucius replied somewhat ambiguously, "What did the Council say? What happened in the meeting?"

If Draco looked old for his age, it was nothing compared to his parents. In the following years after the defeat of the Dark Lord, the Malfoy couple had aged considerably. Lucius Malfoy's lustrous blond hair was now dry and thin. There were lines on his face from worrying, and his eyes were tired and lifeless. Narcissa Malfoy was no better; the crinkles around her eyes were a lot deeper, and she had lost so much weight that her cheeks had sunk in.

Draco finally shifted his gaze to his father's face, though his mind is still set on the unconscious girl, "Next meeting's set here, in our house. And we have to make the Unbreakable Vow to confirm loyalty." He informed tonelessly. "They want to make sure no one else digresses like Avery did."

"Avery?" Lucius asked sharply.

"No one has been able to reach him for days. He wasn't at the meeting today, either. The Council thinks he's fled back to the Ministry."

Frown lines appeared on Lucius's pale face. He looked more tired than he already was, "If he's about to pledge loyalty to the Ministry, then he's going to give them everything he knows about the Council. We have to ensure we reach the Ministry before him. There will be no use of our information if Avery beats us to it."

Draco said nothing.

Lucius's eyes flickered, "And did you say the Unbreakable Vow?" He asked nervously, "Surely not everyone has to participate?"

"They do."

Lucius pursed his lips carefully, deliberating his options. As soon as the war had ended, there had been a target on the Malfoy family's back. What once was a noble name has now been dragged through the mud. Dumbledore's Army didn't trust them, yet neither did the Death Eaters. They couldn't go back to the other side, so they had to fall in alliance with the Council. However, the Council had seen through them as well. Even among Death Eaters, their place was low and humble. The Malfoy Manor was set once again as Headquarters where most of the meetings take place. Even when the Council met elsewhere, they make sure to come by the Manor to ensure that none of the Malfoys had fled.

"Then that determines it." Lucius's hands, now resting on his son's shoulders, start to shake as well, "We have to switch sides as soon as possible."

That was no surprise to Draco. His father had always decided to stand with the stronger side. And given their situation right now, there really wasn't much choice except to go crawling back to the Ministry.

Narcissa had come back upstairs after carefully locking the basement door behind her. She looked at her husband and her son fearfully, awaiting a response. Ignoring her presence, Lucius sighed and tried to make sense of the all the new information. In these circumstances, it almost seemed beneficial that Narcissa had snatched the Mudblood girl. They could spin a story about how Avery captured the Mudblood, and they, the Malfoys, had set out to save her. Hopefully, the Ministry – and Potter – will be so thankful that they have the girl back that they will choose to forgive all sins…

"We have to hand ourselves in to Ministry. Tomorrow. Today, if we can." Lucius said in a commanding voice, "Say we have seen the error of our ways, or that we were under the Imperius Curse. Draco, do you have any influence over Potter? You did go to school with him. Potter has a lot of power over the Ministry these days – "

"I'm not begging Potter for anything." Draco replied flatly, sounding more school boyish than he meant to.

"That pride of yours is no use right now!" Lucius reprimanded, "If we are going to turn ourselves in, we have to grovel!" He paced around the room apprehensively, forming a plan, "We'll have to give names to the Ministry before Avery does– anyone in the Council that we know of – and say that we rescued the Mudblood girl from Avery and was protecting her. We'll say that we were waiting for the perfect moment to escape."

"No." Draco rejected pointblank.

"Draco," Narcissa came to his side and put her arm around his shoulders, which were much narrower than they used to be, "It's risky, but it's doable. Your father and I – We've made it work once before." Her eyes darted to her husband. Although her voice was comforting, her eyes remained fretful.

Draco threw off his mother's arm, "No, I am not keeping that Mudblood hostage!" He said angrily, "And I definitely don't want to _grovel _at Potter's feet!"

"Put your pride aside, Draco!" Lucius's voice echoed around the vast living room, "Our lives are at stake here!"

Draco rounded on his father furiously, "It's not pride, Father! I'm tired of this! I'm tired of going along with everything you say! It's been nothing but trouble for all of us!" His chest heaved from anger, "I'm not going to any more Council meetings and –"

Suddenly something silver and vapory galloped through the front door of the Malfoy Manor in the shape of a very stout horse. It reached the middle of the living room in mere seconds, where all three Malfoys had fallen silent. When it spoke, the voice of Thorfinn Rowle filled the room, "_Avery is dead, no information leaked. The Council is safe. Next meeting on March 30th._"

Draco watched as the Patronus became nothing once more. In spite of himself, his spirits rose a little. If Avery was dead, it means that they could still provide valuable information to the Ministry, and that indicated that they still had a sliver of chance of being cleared of the charges against them.

Lucius seemed to share those thoughts as he breathed out a small sigh of relief, "Draco, Cissy – go get some rest. It seems that we have a few days of preparation after all."

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In the Auror Headquarters of the Ministry of Magic, Harry Potter was briskly leaning over his desk, working on the final paperwork to discharge Stan Shunpike, the pimply conductor on the Knight Bus. Stan was arrested years ago after Lord Voldemort had fallen. Followers or suspected followers were all rounded up and sent to Azkaban. It had taken the Ministry months to figure out which were acting on their own will and which were simply Death Eaters. Even though Harry had served as a core witness in Stan's trial, his discharge had still been dragged out way longer than it should have.

"Harry – " Ron Weasley called from the cubicle on his right, leaning over the boarder that separated them and grinning in a taunting sort of way, "They're back again."

Harry groaned under his breath. The last thing he wanted today was another group of loud, giggling girls in the corridors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Can you tell them I'm not here?" He whispered desperately to Ron as he subconsciously ducked down, "The Muggle Liaison Office already warned me about them twice, and it's only my third month here!"

"Why would the Muggle Liaison Office care about your fan girls?" Ron asked blankly.

"It's the fiasco they cause at the visiting entrance," Harry explained hurriedly, "You know, the telephone booth? They keep crowding it, and it's drawing a lot of attention from the Muggles. And the Obliviators are busy enough as it is."

In contrast to the crouching Harry, Ron actually straightened up a bit and sneaked a glance at the girls almost hopefully, "Yeah, alright. I'll tell them off." And he strode over to the group of girls crowding near the entrance.

"Move along, now." Harry heard him say in a lazy voice, "Harry Potter's not in today."

"You're Ron Weasley!" One of them exclaimed in a high pitch voice full of excitement.

"Er – yeah. Yeah, I am." Ron sounded hesitant, though pleasantly delighted.

"I know all about you!" The same voice gushed, "I've researched everyone in Dumbledore's Army – and you're Treasurer!"

Ron looked completely bewildered now, "Treasurer?"

"Yeah! Treasurer of _SPUKE_, the house-elf rights campaign!"

Harry broke into silent laughter as the back of Ron's ears turned scarlet.

"First of all, it's _SPEW_. Get your facts straight, Valerie." Another voice said rather haughtily, "Second of all, I can see the top of Harry's head from here. I was wondering if he'd give an interview?"

Harry looked up quickly at the girl requesting an interview. His heart sank as he recognized her. It was Romilda Vane. Ever since she had started writing the gossip column of _Witch Weekly_, it had been all about him. When she couldn't get a quote out of someone he knew, she made them up or focused on his Hogwarts years, once devoting an entire section to how he dated "Loony" Luna Lovegood, now the current girlfriend of Neville Longbottom. "_Playboy that he is, Harry Potter has dated many members in Dumbledore's Army. Let's just hope Neville Longbottom does not resent the fact that his girlfriend was Harry's sloppy second." _She had written.

Harry glanced guiltily at the cubicle a few feet away from him where Neville Longbottom sat. Neville had failed Stealth and Tracking three times already and was taking the examination again later in the month. Meanwhile, he was interning in the Auror Headquarters and was mainly in charge of distributing tedious paperwork. He was conducting a Permanent Sticking Charm on a photo of him and Luna together on the wall at the moment. Both of them waved cheerily from the photo, beaming.

"He's not here!" Ron snapped. As he strode back to his cubicle, his ears were still red, "Out of all the things I've done… They had to remember the _SPEW_ one… What about being Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team? What about being a part of the Battle of Hogwarts? No – I'm known as _Treasurer of SPUKE_…"

Harry fought to keep a straight face. He reminded himself that Ron, always being in his shadow but always standing by him loyally all this time, had well deserved his seriousness. "Come on, _SPEW_ is gaining national attention now. It's natural for people to pay more thoughts to its members. Some of those girls may even be supporters in the _SPEW_ conference this morning."

"Come off it." Ron murmured darkly, now poking the parchment in front of him with his wand to get rid of the ink splatters so fiercely that he prodded a hole in the middle.

"Where is Hermione anyway?" Harry changed the subject hastily, "The conference ended ages ago, and she said she'd meet us for lunch."

Ron muttered something that sounded like "changed her mind…ditched again…" and Harry tried not to acknowledge it. He felt very awkward in the entire Ron - Hermione situation. They had briefly dated after the war had ended, but then Hermione had gone into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures while he and Ron did Auror Training. She was so busy that they rarely saw her. Not to mention Auror Training was already taking up almost all of their time. Ron had to take the Concealment and Disguise examination twice as he failed the first time in a mock mission – he had successfully Transfigured himself into a trash can in the middle of the street but coughed and spit out the garbage a nearby Muggle was trying to put in his mouth. Needless to say, he gave the Muggle old lady quite a fright when he Transfigured back so she beat him with her cane.

Their schedule had clashed horribly, and both of Ron and Hermione were under so much pressure that they did nothing but snap at each other in the little time they had together. Slowly, they drifted apart, leaving Harry in the middle, trying to patch up their friendship.

Harry glimpsed at Ron nervously. He was guilt-ridden to say that he missed the times they had in dangerous adventures. He had hoped that Ron and Hermione could still be friends after all that has happened between them, but the reality was that they only hung out together for Harry's sake.

A sudden movement in the air grasped Harry's attention. A few small paper airplanes containing memos from other departments flew into the room. One of them aimed straight for Neville's head and he gave a yelp of surprise and accidently shot flames out of his wand at Harry.

"Sorry, Harry! _Aguamenti_ – " Neville said quickly, shooting a fountain at Harry's head and instantly drenching him in cold water.

"It's no problem…" Harry spluttered and wiped his wet hair from his face. A click from the entrance indicated that Romilda Vane had gotten a photo to capture this moment. Harry groaned. He could almost imagine the headlines in _Witch Weekly: "Neville Longbottom, jealous boyfriend of Luna Lovegood, tries to set her ex-boyfriend Harry Potter on fire before drowning him."_

Before Harry could wipe his glasses clean, though, Neville had yelled, "Harry – look!" Jamming his glasses back on, Harry looked up to a memo flying straight to him. He jumped up and caught it in his hand. Opening it, his eyes darted back and forth until he took it in.

"Ron…" He said slowly, "Ron, look at this,"

Ron stopped muttering and looked over Harry's shoulders at the piece of parchment. After a while, his eyes widened in surprise, "Hermione's missing?" He asked quietly.

"It says they haven't heard a response from her in hours, and the house-elves confirmed that she left when the conference ended." Harry's heart tightened. This wouldn't be the first time someone in the Order of Phoenix or Dumbledore's Army disappeared. And usually when they did, they either never came back or came back shaken and messed up. If Hermione was taken by the Death Eaters… If she was being tortured right now…

Neville, who was listening in on their conversation, suggested weakly, "Maybe she stopped by somewhere to grab a bite."

Ron had already charged out of his seat. He quickly threw his cloak around him and marched towards the door, where the giggling girls watched in anticipation.

"Ron!" Harry scrambled after him, tugging his Invisibility Cloak along with him.

The girls squealed at the sight of Harry.

"It's Harry Potter – he's there!"

"Do you see his scar?"

"Harry! Can I get your autograph?"

Trying not to sound too annoyed, Harry pushed his way out of them, "Excuse me." He said rather gruffly.

As he chased after Ron, a sight of Hermione lying lifeless on the cold, hard ground went through his mind, and he prayed that it would never be true.

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_*NOTE:_

_The Council: A group of Death Eaters who managed to escape Azkaban. Core members include Rookwood, Avery Sr., the Carrows, Dolohov, Crabbe Sr., Goyle Sr., Gregory Goyle, Mulciber, Rowle and Yaxley. Other members include giants and several goblins._

_Malfoy Manor: Protected by the Fidelius Charm, which is why neither of the Malfoys have been caught by the Ministry._

_S.P.E.W.: Now that Hermione is in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures where she fights for the rights of house-elves and other under-represented creatures, S.P.E.W. has gained a lot more attention than before. The mentioned "conference" took place in Hogwarts, where she gave a speech to students in the castle about appreciating the food and service the house-elves provide._

_Romilda Vane: She is two years younger than Harry and is quite fond of him. In this story, she writes the gossip column of Witch Weekly, and resembles a young Rita Skeeter in the way that she likes writing made-up rumors about Harry. In clarification, Harry has never dated Luna; that was Romilda's own "version" of what happened._

_Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this. _


	2. The Escape

_Warning: Fight scene ahead._

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**Chapter 2 The Escape**

The silver tray trembled a little in Draco's hands. He stared down at it with cold, hard eyes, as if daring it to move again. But it was not the tray that shook, it were his hands.

He didn't want this. Shame, or fear, or whatever else they want to call it. He didn't want to face any of _them_ again. And until this day, he never thought he had to.

As he made his way down to the cellar, his Hawthorn wand lit and held between his long, thin fingers, he wished with all his might that she would still be unconscious. Pushing open the gate carefully, he could see that his prayers were unanswered.

Hermione Granger stood in the middle of the room, gazing at him with pure loathing in her eyes. He said nothing and escaped her burning stare by busying himself with her food tray.

She wasn't the same as the day he last saw her within the battlegrounds in Hogwarts. She seemed…more mature, more confident. There was an air of assertiveness around her.

Before Draco could set down the food tray completely, though, she had pounced on him. Her sudden act of boldness made him cry out in surprise as the bowls tipped over and broke, spilling soup all over the floor. By sheer luck, even though she was a considerable amount shorter than him, Hermione had managed to grab onto Draco's wrist, making him drop the wand. It rolled away into the darkness, and Draco fell to his knees, scrambling to catch it again –

"Get off!" He snarled. Hermione had seized his robes and was trying to get to the wand before him, reaching for it with her slender fingers. He wanted to kick her off, but was afraid of hurting her. The Ministry wouldn't be pleased if she turned up too injured.

At last, Draco's hand closed upon the wand and he raised it up and pointed it directly in her face, "Get off, Granger, or I'll curse you."

Hermione stiffened before finally releasing him and shrinking back to her original state of throwing him dirty looks.

Silently though breathing rapidly, Hermione brushed away a strand of brown hair from her face. She had prepared herself for the worst and was half expecting Draco Malfoy to hex her just for the hell of it, but then she saw him walking silently back to where the tray had fallen.

"_Reparo_." He murmured at the broken bowl, which fixed itself at once. He then proceeded to use the Replenishing Charm to refill it with soup. When he was finished, he carried the tray back to her and set it down at her feet, although a lot more far away than he did the first time. Draco pulled himself up to his full height and scrutinized Hermione. Her robes were torn, and covered in blood.

"_Reparo_." He repeated at the cuts on her clothes, which seemed to sew themselves back in mere seconds, "_Tergeo_." He pointed at her collarbone, cleaning up the blood.

Hermione was too shocked to say – or do – anything. It never occurred to her that Draco Malfoy would offer any act of kindness, especially when she was his prisoner. She had expected him to try to make matters as uncomfortable for her as possible.

"Too bad there's nothing I can do about that hair of yours." Draco forced a sneer, a bit of his old demeanor showing in his pale face.

This did not affront Hermione at all. On the contrary, she was quite relieved that Malfoy was still the way he was.

"It's not going to work, you know." Hermione retorted in a bossy, matter-of-fact kind of way, as if she was explaining the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane.

He looked at her in curiosity, "What's not going to work?"

"What you're planning." She said in contempt. "You're wanted for treachery, Dark activities, using Unforgivable Curses – you name it. And holding me hostage is not going to change any of that."

Draco watched her coldly, "You don't know what you're talking about, _Mudblood._"

If Hermione wasn't so busy trying to muster all the hate she could for him through her eyes, she would have noticed how tired he looked, how empty his eyes were, or how his usual sneer and insults were nowhere as pointed or powerful as they were before.

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In the days trapped inside the cellar of Malfoy Manor, Hermione had learned a lot. The Malfoys had not recognized the flesh colored string in her pocket that was in fact an Extendable Ear – probably thinking that it was some kind of lose thread – and did not bother to take it away from her like they did her wand. And Hermione had been eavesdropping on them ever since. It was obvious that the Malfoys, once so proud of their pureblood line, and taken a toll on their social status in the wizarding world. They argued constantly, accompanied with the sounds of broken china. The pacing footsteps upstairs were furtive, impatient, and never ceased to stop. From what she's heard and her deductions, which, she was rather good at, Hermione had decided that she was in no immediate danger. The Malfoys seemed to want to keep her alive and unharmed in an attempt of switching sides. It seemed like they can no longer survive among the other Death Eaters, who have all gone into hiding. They had not decided what they were going to do with her, but one thing was sure: they did not want retaliation.

Hermione's assumptions were confirmed when Draco Malfoy came down three times a day, provided her with edible food and drinks, and even drew up a bed and a pretty decent bathroom for her with his wand. After their first encounter though, he had stopped talking to her, or acknowledging her existence at all. He came in, dropped off the food, and left so fast without so much of a glance at her.

As she observed him, she slowly saw how different he looked. His skin was so pale that it was almost transparent, as if he hasn't seen the sun for ages. His white-blond hair seemed flatter, thinner, and longer than she had ever seen it. When he bent over, his hair fell into his eyes, hiding how very drained and inert they were.

The days passed by uneventfully. It wasn't until a particular moody day inside the Malfoy Manor (judging by the urgency of the heated conversation) that Hermione finally found out their intended plan.

"We have to act soon," Lucius Malfoy was saying. He sounded agitated and disturbed, "You and Draco should take the girl and go into hiding. It would be unwise for all three of us to try to enter the Ministry. I shall try to contact the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I will provide all the names, locations, and information I know about the members in the Council, along with the whereabouts of the Mudblood girl. I will say that you and Draco have taken her on the run to escape the Council… I will only ask you to come out of hiding once the Ministry has granted immunity. Hopefully Potter will stand on our side. Rumors say he's prone to forgiveness."

"Lucius," Narcissa's voice was barely more than a whisper, "Lucius, have you any idea how dangerous this is? Once Draco and I go on the run, the entire world will be looking for us. The Council _and_ the Ministry. I don't want us to end up like Avery. Wouldn't it be safer if we just bring the girl straight to – "

"Of course not," Lucius interrupted coldly, "Do you think the Ministry will be keen to free us after we have offered all that we have? They will have no use of us! It would be a miracle if we can even get to Azkaban: the Council will kill us before that!"

"The Ministry will not free us either way." Narcissa said, "They will not grant immunity – not when we still have the girl."

"Which is way I will tell them that the reason that we have not handed the girl over is to ensure her own safety. And her safety is only guaranteed if every member of the Council is caught."

"We need more time…" Narcissa whispered, her voice trembling.

"We don't have any. You heard Draco. The Council is too prudent now. If we don't act now, the Unbreakable Vow will ensure that we never do."

"Lucius… You know that means… "

"Yes," Lucius said grimly, "I do. If the plan works, it might take months … years … before they round up all the members. And if it doesn't…"

"We will be on the run forever." Narcissa finished for him.

There was a short moment of silence before Narcissa spoke again. "Draco?" She asked, as if hoping her son would offer some kind of intake.

If Narcissa had not addressed her son directly, Hermione wouldn't have known that Draco was even present during the conversation. He seemed to have gone completely mute at his parents' discussion.

"Draco?" His mother asked again, sounding worried.

"Anything." Draco finally mumbled dully.

Their discussion shifted to preparations of food and clothing for Narcissa and Draco, and Hermione pulled the thread from her ear. Feeling numb and loaded with information, she sat down on the bed Draco had conjured and brought her knees up to hug them.

She didn't know how to feel about this. Last time she had been in the Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her while the Draco just stood there, white-faced and scared. She shuddered as she remembered the Cruciatus Curse upon her. There was not much she could do at this point. She was without a wand, which rendered her practically defenseless. Even if she somehow manages to win one before the Malfoys take action, there was still the Anti-Disapparition Jinx in place.

And something didn't make sense… Hermione expected no less for Death Eaters to attempt to switch sides, but Avery? In the intensive research she had done on existing Death Eaters in her seventh year to hunt down Horcruxes, she had memorized every one of the known Death Eaters – and Avery was one of the first ones to join, along with the Lestranges. It didn't seem that likely that he would be the one to flee… Unless they were talking about Avery Jr.?

The door creaked open as Draco Malfoy came down the stairs, his wand lit and his arms laden with the usual food tray. He did not look at Hermione as he quickly set it down. With his back slightly hunched, Hermione could see his terrified face. It seemed even whiter than it was a few days ago.

"Hurry up and eat." He said dully, "We're leaving in a few minutes."

"Don't you think this is all too convenient?" She blurted out.

Draco stopped abruptly in the middle of his walk to the door.

Seeing that he had no intention to reply, Hermione climbed up from her position on the bed and stood up, "Avery fleeing right before you've decided to go to the Ministry?" She demanded. She didn't want to help the Malfoys in any way, but their obviously flawed plan might jeopardize her own safety as well.

Draco turned around to face her, his eyes narrowed, "How did you know about that? What device do you have on you? _Accio!_" But since he didn't know what he was searching for, the Summoning Charm did not work.

"Use your brain, Malfoy." Hermione said hotly, completely disregarding his interrogations, "If this is a trap, you'll get everyone killed in the process!"

When Draco spoke again, he spoke in his usual condescending tone, "I suggest you keep your ears to yourself, Mudblood. Or I might curse them off for you."

"Which would be harder for you to do if you were dead."

He raised his eyebrows at her, "If I didn't know better, Granger," He drawled slowly, "I'd say you're worried about me."

"I currently have too much on my plate to worry about two-faced Death Eaters." Hermione said coldly, eyeing him with great dislike.

For a moment, they merely stared at each other, each boiling in their own anger.

"Draco?" Narcissa's voice rang through, "We have to go. Your father has already – "

But before either of them could hear what Lucius had already done, a high pitch shriek blared as if an alarm has been triggered. There was a loud bang, a woman's outcry of torment that sounded awfully like Narcissa, and many loud, angry voices all at once. Deafening footsteps echoed through the ceiling of the cellar, and more bangs sounded, as if an army was blasting through the Malfoy's drawing room.

Face white as snow, Draco grabbed Hermione's forearm and dragged her away from the door, his wand raised in front of him like a sword.

"Well, Lucius. You're a slippery one, aren't you? Planning to turn on us, were you?"

"No… No, of course not." Came Lucius's trembling voice, all dignity lost.

"Really? 'Cause I think if it weren't for the Caterwauling Charm outside your house alerting us you were trying to ran for it, you would have Disapparated by now."

"I wasn't… I assure you, Rookwood, our loyalties lie within the Council. Unlike Avery – "

"Avery's right here, you snitch." Rookwood spat, "It was a trap we set for you. We knew if you had the make the Unbreakable Vow, you'd run and turn us all in. I think you deserve some punishment for that, don't you? _Crucio!_"

And suddenly Lucius Malfoy's screams were all that they could hear. The little color left in Draco's face drained, and his hand grasped Hermione's arm so tight that she gasped out in pain.

"No! No! Please!" Narcissa Malfoy was screaming too.

"Just a taste of what's to come…" Rookwood said maliciously. But he seemed to have lifted the curse because Lucius's scream stopped, "Now, where is young Draco?"

"He's not here!" Narcissa said at once, "He left already!"

"I doubt it." Another voice told Rookwood, "The Caterwauling Charm was intact until Malfoy stepped out. His son's probably still in the house. Hiding, most likely. He was always a little coward."

Hermione's eyes darted upwards and saw Draco's jaw clenched firmly, making his chin tremble.

"Search the house." Rookwood commanded, and more footsteps trudged along the ceiling of the cellar. Draco's hand was now clamped so forcefully around Hermione's arm that she was wincing. As quietly as possible, the pair retreated into the shadows. Hermione's mind raced as she weighed her options. She was wandless, and if she came across any Death Eater that wasn't a Malfoy, she'd be dead within the second. From the sound of if, it seemed like both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been defeated already. This meant that her best chance of survival is to stick with Draco Malfoy.

"Check the cellar too!" Rookwood boomed.

Quick as a flash, knowing that they had mere seconds before someone burst in, Draco pointed his wand at the bathroom that he had conjured up for Hermione, vanishing it silently. He then redirected his want to her bed. As scared as she was, Hermione was also astounded by his wand work. The bed sprung up vertically and Transfigured itself to resemble the walls in the cellar. It flew over to where they were standing and wrapped itself around them, and Hermione realized that it was hollow in the middle. They managed to blend in with the walls a millisecond before the door to the cellar was blasted open.

"You take the left side, Alecto! I'll take right!"

With a horrified feeling, Hermione recognized the voices. They belonged to the Carrows. One set of footsteps came so close to their hiding place that Hermione let in a sharp intake of breath. Draco immediately threw his other hand across her mouth, blocking her airway. In the limited space that they had, Hermione was confined between the wall and Draco's arm. Cramped up in the tiny space against Draco, she couldn't help noticing that his hand was shaking too.

"Nothing here, Amycus." Said a wheezy female voice right in front of them.

"_Homenum Revelio!_" Amycus Carrow said, and the curious sensation that swept upon Hermione indicated that the human revealing spell had worked. "I knew it! There's someone else here! Look around, Alecto! He might have used a Disillusionment Charm!"

Draco suddenly made a slashing movement with his wand, and Hermione recognized it at once as the curse that Dolohov had used on her in her fifth year at the Ministry. A streak of purple flames flew through the wall that hid them and hit Alecto Carrow in the back. She cried out in pain and fell to the floor.

"Alecto! Hey! He's down here! He's – "

"_Stupefy!_" Draco aimed wildly at the source of the voice as the Transfigured wall in front of them crumpled to pieces under Carrow's berserk curses. He missed and blasted a part of concrete on the floor instead. "Come on!" Still grabbing onto her forearm, Draco pulled her forwards.

Hermione struggled and broke free to pick up Alecto Carrow's wand, then raced to follow Draco Malfoy. There was no way she could take them alone, she had have to form allegiance with Draco for now.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" A burst of green light shot at them and they dodged in opposite directions to avoid it.

Additional footsteps and voices came through the door. Other Death Eaters have joined the fight. Silently, Hermione shot multiple Stunning Spells at them, each one hitting its target.

"There's someone else here!" A jet of red light came so close to her and she felt her hair get blown away from her face. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Hermione crept back into the shadows.

"Don't hurt him – _please_!" Narcissa's desperate cries penetrated through the many booms and blasts, but none of the Death Eaters seemed to have heard her.

Hermione backed away to the wall, the wand of Alecto Carrow raised in front of her. She was too scared to cast a spell in case she gave away her location. Meanwhile, she could see Draco Malfoy dueling Amycus Carrow. Other Death Eaters have spotted the pair as well and advanced immediately towards them.

A small part of Hermione didn't want to come forward to save him. But she also knew that if it weren't for his quick wit, she wouldn't even be alive to contemplate this at all.

"_Incendio!_" She cried.

Sudden fire erupted all around, surrounding the Death Eaters. They cried out, turned their attention back to her, and shot more Killing Curses over, which she managed to avoid by diving behind one of the pillars. The fires seemed to hold them momentarily. Some of them were trying to put it out with water, but Hermione's spell was so strong that it couldn't be diminished instantaneously. She used this precious time she had to run to the doorway of the cellar, shooting another Stunning Spell at an oncoming Death Eater in her way.

"It's the Mudblood girl from the Ministry! Kill her! Kill – "

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" She shot at him, and he fell to the floor.

Suddenly, someone else grabbed onto the back of her robes, almost choking her. She squeaked out a shout of pain as a spell hit her in the back, shooting white-hot pain all across her body. Before she could twist around to see who casted it, someone else shot a Stunning Spell at the Death Eater, causing him to release her.

Hermione knelt down to the floor, panting as she clutched her sides in agony. But another hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her up to her feet almost instantly.

"Come on!" The owner of the hand yelled, and she turned to face Draco again. He had a bloody gash on his cheek that reached all the way to his neck.

They ran up the stairs as the others followed them. Another spell missed her by centimeters, and she could smell burning hair.

"_Confringo!_" Hermione pointed to the ceiling of the cellar and it exploded, showering them with rocks and pebbles.

Muffled yells and screams told her that she at least buried some of them. As they ran out of the cellar and across the living room, more spells were sent their way.

"Get them!" Rowle, who was standing over the lump on the floor that was Lucius Malfoy and holding back Narcissa, yelled at his fellow Death Eaters. "_Reducto!_" His spell missed and hit the huge ornate mirror, blowing it into a wreckage of sharp glass.

Hermione screamed as one jagged mirror piece cut across the side of her ribs. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Draco no longer running for the door but towards his mother, who was bounded by silver ropes.

"No!" Narcissa screamed again. "Draco, _run_!" The urgency of her voice pierced through all other sounds and seemed to reach Draco like a stunning spell. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, in the midst of all the debris, not knowing what to do as he watched his fear-stricken mother.

Hermione knew that she couldn't waste another second. Tearing her gaze away, she ran for the door. And suddenly Draco was running beside her, his face pale but adamant. The distance between them and the front door stretched endlessly on, and it seemed to take them all the time in the world to reach it.

As Hermione toppled into the yard, she tried to Disapparate but couldn't. On her side, Draco was still racing to the gate with no sign of slowing down. Understanding where the boundary of the spell laid, Hermione ran after him. Another spell hit the dry hedges on her right and it burst into flames.

She covered her face with her arms and pointed her wand backwards with no trace of decelerating, "_Impedimenta! Immobulus! Impedimenta!_" She cried aimlessly.

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!_" Someone bellowed behind them, and Hermione felt the spell shoot past her and hit Draco on his back. He slumped over to the ground.

Hermione blasted the gate open with her wand. She could see a group of Death Eaters advancing, shooting Killing Curses at her. If she could cross over the threshold, she could Disapparate. But the feeble movement of Draco Malfoy caught her eye and she had the shortest internal struggle of her life before she flung herself down next to him and attempted to drag him over.

"Come on…Come on, _please!_" She panted as her quivering fingers found the collar of his robes, but he was too heavy and she couldn't move him by herself. The Death Eaters were getting closer now, aiming at the immobile target she made by crouching over Draco. The gate behind her got blasted into smithereens, showering her with more debris and dust. Yet the dark patch of blood that was oozing from Draco's back was even more terrifying: it had spread over his entire torso, staining his shirt.

"_Mobilicorpus!_" Hermione gasped as she remembered the spell at the last second, and Draco's body floated into the air and out the gate.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_"

This time, the full-body bind curse hit her.

Dread came over Hermione as her arms snapped to her sides. She was as good as dead now. And to know that she will die trying to help Draco Malfoy… The bitter thought entered her mind relentlessly, and it was even more appalling than death itself. Thundering footsteps grew louder and louder as Hermione silently struggled to throw off the curse.

Suddenly, a hand came out of nowhere and closed upon her wrist again.

With blood dripping from his mouth, Draco had managed to crawl back up. Snarling in exertion and shaking in pain, he dragged her over the threshold of the Anti-Disapparation Jinx.

More curses surged through the air around them, and dirt from the ground flew into Hermione's eyes so she couldn't see; but then everything went pitch black as Draco Disapparated and she felt extreme discomfort in being squeezed from all directions before she knew no more.

.

.

.

_*NOTE:_

_The Council has suspected the Malfoys to switch sides for a while. Their trap was to let "slip" that a Death Eater had betrayed them before the Malfoys could, along with the information that they had to make the Unbreakable Vow next meeting. Lying about the death of Avery was a final warning to the Malfoys to let them know what's to come if they fled. If the Malfoys were planning to betray them, they would have acted before the next meeting took place, which they did._

_Thank you for your time!_


	3. Until Death

**Chapter 3 Until Death**

When he finally awoke with an agonizing, stabbing pain in his back, Draco opened his eyes to a glimpse of brown hair under the subtle, flickering candlelight. It took him a few seconds to regard the person in front of him.

"…Granger." He croaked out. His throat was scratchy and hoarse, as if he hadn't had a drop of water in days. The overall surroundings were dark, and the candles made his crouching shadow contort on the wall like a puppet. He had managed to Disapparate to his grandparents' house, which resided on the top of a hill, overlooking a forest. But he knew he couldn't stay here long. The Death Eaters will find this place sooner or later. But now, his lips felt chapped and dry, and not his own. They seemed to do the speaking for him, "How long was I out?"

"A day." Hermione whispered timidly.

Draco disregarded the fear in her voice and tried to sit up.

"No, don't!" Her hands grasped his shoulders firmly and tried to push him back, which resulted in him wincing in pain as the cuts on his back collided with the mattress, "Sorry! But – but you mustn't get up!"

"Why not?" Draco murmured, his words slurring into each other. The constant throbbing pain was edging away his consciousness, and he fought to stay alert.

Hermione watched him nervously, "I – I've tried to heal your wounds as much as I can, but it keeps bleeding and I can't stop it."

"It was Snape's curse." Draco said monotonously, "Only he knew the remedy."

"Then we have to get you to a Healer! St Mungos, or a Muggle hospital."

Draco looked at her coldly. It had only occurred to him that she was speaking to him as if he was her friend, or equal. For a moment, he had forgotten that she had been his prisoner. As the pain drifted away a little for him to get a clear mind again, he spoke after careful selection of words, "That won't be necessary."

"Of course it is!" Hermione said at once, "You're bleeding out, and I don't know how to fix it! If this continues, you'll die! I've put bandages on the injuries, but I don't – "

"Why are you still here?" Draco cut across her words, suddenly vigilant. He ignored the bleeding wound as he pulled himself upright to a sitting position. His cold eyes found her warm ones; they were round with fear.

"Wh-What?" She stammered.

"What are you still doing here?" He asked again flatly, "I'm hurt, aren't I? I can't hold you hostage anymore. Why aren't you back in the Ministry with your little friends? Or are you waiting for Potter to come and arrest me?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed a dull red at his accusations; "I didn't turn you in to the Ministry, if that's all you're worried about."

"It is."

"Fine, then." Hermione said angrily, "I just stayed because you dragged me out of there. But you could show a little gratification."

Draco's eyes drifted away from her face and found the ceiling instead, "I only saved you because I wanted to use you as leverage. It's not like I cared whether you lived or died. So I suggest you treat me the same way." For reasons unknown, he found it hard look at her.

"Fine," Hermione snapped, her eyes blazing with rage, "I'll leave first thing in the morning then. Sorry I cared." And she stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Draco sighed and laid back onto the pillows propped up for him. He touched his face; the bloody gash was gone, but a faint scar still remained. His hands travelled to his side – she had mended his broken ribs as well. When finally he touched his back, he cringed under the blinding pain. Looking down at his fingers, he saw that they were glistering with blood.

He almost felt bad for telling the Mudblood off. She had at least proven to be useful. She must have prolonged his life by a few days. But it was all fruitless anyway. There was no way he could waltz into a hospital, Muggle or magical. He was wanted everywhere, and there was probably a generously high bounty on his head. Even if he somehow managed to escape the Aurors, there were still the Death Eaters. They would be watching every hospital like a hawk, knowing that he got hurt. So he was going to die. He was going to die here, in his grandfather's bed, alone.

Draco felt something warm in his eyes and had a bizarre urge to laugh. What a selfish bastard he was! His parents were probably being tortured of his whereabouts right now. Who knew if they were still even alive? And here he was, worrying about his own health.

Such a pathetic end to a pathetic life. He thought bitterly. Hiding in his house for 4 years, capturing a Ministry official in an attempt to switch sides, and then getting his back slashed open by the very army he chose to side with. It's ironic, how the people that he swore allegiance to are now hunting him, while the girl that he spent 6 years bullying just strived to save his life.

Would it hurt though? He wondered as his shaking fingers found the hem of the bandages and tugged them off, revealing his pallid, injured torso. He lied back down in bed and felt the blood from his back trickling down to taint the bed sheets. Rookwood had been right. He was always a little coward. Always doing whatever he could to save his own pitiful life. Always afraid.

He almost wished that one of the spells back at Malfoy Manor had ended him. Then he wouldn't have to endure the pain he was in now. Maybe he could call back Granger to finish what Rookwood and the others started. But she would never oblige. Her and Potter, and that awful Weasley family… Them bounded by their own self-righteousness… They would never kill him, not even if he begged them to.

But he had decided. Death would be the easier way out than Azkaban or the Dementor's Kiss. He tried to convince himself as he inhaled deeply. It was his only option now. Maybe if he passed out from the blood loss, he wouldn't even feel it. It will just be like sleeping.

His eyelids got heavier and heavier until he could no longer keep his eyes open. Breathing deeply, he slipped into a trance-like sleep.

…

"No!" Someone was screaming in his ear. He could roughly feel his body being dragged. His head was so dizzy that he could not lift it. All he could see were black and red spots from the inside of his eyelids.

"No…No…_Episkey! Episkey!_" The same someone was jabbing at him with a wand. It made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Malfoy?" The voice called anxiously, "Malfoy, can you hear me?"

Small, warm hands found his shoulders and started to shake him violently, making his headache worse than it already was.

"Malfoy? Malfoy!"

"…For Merlin's sake, woman, please _stop_." He scowled weakly, no longer able to feign unconsciousness.

"Sorry!" Hermione let go of him, her shoulders sagging with relief, "I thought…I thought you were…"

"Well, I'm not." Draco said, agitated as he finally opened his eyes. Just as he thought, she never would have let him die under her nose. Captured, maybe. Arrested, sure. But not die.

"Why did you take off those bandages?" She demanded, her anger returning instantly, "You could have died!" She conjured up some clean bandages with her wand and sanitized them.

Draco said nothing as Hermione propped him up against the side of bedframe. She had a dried blood patch on her forehead that she took no notice of. And her hair was swept back from her face, revealing the ghost of the frightened look she had in her eyes. She leant over him to wrap the clean bandages around his bare torso, her hands trembling as they brushed against his pale skin. She leant so close that the tips of her brown hair tickled his chest. Yet he did not back away from her touch. He closed those tired eyes again; he knew a part of him always wanted to live, no matter how dire the situation was.

"You're burning up." Hermione whispered. The back of her hand touched his forehead, and it felt icy compared to his temperature, "You need medical care. I'm going to arrange a Portkey to take you to St Mungos, you need – "

Draco grabbed her wrist as she stood up to leave, frowning so hard that it looked as though he was in pain, "No."

"_No?_" She asked incredulously.

"I can't." He repeated, and was surprised himself at the authority in his voice, "If I go, I'll die."

"You'll die here if you don't!" Hermione argued hotly.

"That's not your concern." Draco muttered.

She said nothing for a long time. Draco had thought she had left if she hadn't wrapped her arms around him to help him to the bed again.

"There's a village not far away from here." She said quietly, struggling under his weight, "And they will have the potions to at least stop the bleeding."

Draco looked at her wearily.

"I'll have to go on foot." Hermione continued, her eyes hard, "The Floo network, Portkeys, and Apparations are all under the Ministry's control. If I use those methods, they will know where I am, and they will find you. But if I leave now, I can get back before sunrise."

A small fire of hope ignited inside of him, and he hated her for that. He hated being in her debt, and he hated how kind she was. It would have been so much easier if she would just let him die.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked dully.

She didn't answer him. Perhaps she didn't want to, or perhaps she didn't know how. All Draco saw was that she took a bag from the closet of his grandfather's room and swung it across her shoulders. She found a pair of hiking boots and shrunk them with her wand before pulling them on too. When she turned to look at him one more time, he saw the resolution in her eyes.

"I will come back." Hermione repeated again, and he felt himself nod curtly at those words.

She took one last look at him, her expression unreadable. Then she went out the door.

.

.

.


	4. Lasting Scar

**Chapter 4 Lasting Scar**

Hermione panted as she climbed another hill in the direction of the faint lights from the small village across the meadows. She made a mental note to herself to exercise more once she got back to the Ministry. She had gotten so used to Apparation that her legs were sore from hiking for only an hour.

The frosty breeze of the howling wind whipped her hair into her eyes, and Hermione brushed them away impatiently, her gaze not diverging from the lights ahead. Her plan was to get the healing potions – or herbs, if they had any – and return as quickly as possible to the handsome mansion on the other side of the moors. But the more she walked, the more doubtful she felt. She couldn't even tell herself why she was trying so hard to help Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who had been nothing but horrible to her during her Hogwarts years. And not just to her, but to all her friends as well. Not to mention all the despicable things he'd done as a Death Eater. What was she _doing_, protecting him like this? She should have Apparated as soon as she had arrived at the mansion.

_And leave Malfoy to die? _Asked a small voice inside her head.

Hermione shook those thoughts away and wrapped her travelling cloak around her tighter, trying to keep out the wind. _He had saved her. He could have Disapparated outside the Malfoy Manor and left her there but he came back for her. _And it didn't matter if he did so only to use her further in his attempt to switch sides, though the revelation stung her a little. She was alive right now because of his actions, and the least she could do is make sure he didn't die on her watch.

The lights came closer and closer into view, and Hermione broke into a run. The thought of Draco lying lifeless, bleeding out and burning up, instigated her more than she had realized. The cold air made her eyes water, but she blinked away the discomfort.

Finally, she reached the edge of the town, where a dingy little bar stood lopsided by a couple of oak trees. It looked particularly sketchy with its dusty doors and windows, and Hermione hid her wand in her sleeve just in case.

When she pushed the door open, almost every pair of eyes stared at her. This was obviously a town's bar, and she was clearly a foreigner intruding on their turf.

"Erm…" Her voice came out higher than usual, "I-I was wondering if you had any healing potions for blood loss? Only my friend is hurt and he could really use some…"

A group of muscular middle age men huddled in a corner leered at her. "Alright there, sweetheart?" Jeered the one with the nastiest beard that looked like it was full of moths and beer.

Hermione decided to ignore him and walked swiftly towards to the bartender, who was wearing a tight sweater cut so low that her breasts may jump out any second.

"Excuse me," Hermione said breathlessly, "I-I don't know if you heard me earlier, but I was wondering – "

"Yah, I heard ya." The bartender turned away from her customer unwillingly and eyed Hermione. She was wearing a lot of heavy makeup to cover up her age, "What does this place look like, a hospital?" She cackled along with a couple of customers that were close enough to hear her.

"Well, sorry for-for the disturbance. Can you maybe point me to the closest hospital then…?" Hermione asked hopefully, hopping off her stool.

"There ain't a hospital in this town, Miss." The bartender with a horrible accent, "But we've got some 'erbs and potions 'ere. I never said we didn't, did I?"

"Oh!" Hermione's face broke into a smile of relief, "Oh, good. Can I please borrow some?"

The bartender raised her eyebrows at her, "Borrow?" She asked softly, "We don't do no borrowin' around 'ere. That's two Galleons for your potions, Miss."

Hermione's face fell. She hasn't got any money on her. The Malfoys had taken all of her possessions, including her wand. If it weren't for Alecto Carrow, she would be completely defenseless right now.

"Two Galleons?" She asked, forcing a fake smile on her face, "That seems like a lot for some standard healing potions."

The bartender scoffed and turned back to her post, "Take it or leave it, missy. Ain't no one 'ere beggin' ya to buy."

Before Hermione could utter a response to reason with the bartender, a heavy arm suddenly draped itself around her shoulders, squeezing her so hard that she lost her breath.

"You're a looker, aren't you, darlin'!" Puffed the burly, drunken man that the arm belonged to. He smiled at Hermione, and she crumbled under his yellow teeth and sour tobacco breath.

"I was actually in the middle of…" Hermione tried to edge away, but the man clamped her to his side.

"Have a drink with me, won't you?" He boomed, "Nadia, two firewhiskies!"

"No – really – I – "

But Nadia the bartender had already brought over the drinks. She slammed the dusty glasses down on the counter, spraying them with specks of alcohol. Her eyes traced over to Hermione's face in curiosity as Hermione's hood fell back.

"Hey…" Nadia frowned at her, "Aren't ya…aren't ya that missin' witch?"

And to Hermione's horror, Nadia pointed to a poster of Hermione's own face stuck on the wall. There was a reward for two thousand Galleons for her return.

"Yah, ya are!" Nadia exclaimed again, "'Mione Granger, ya are!"

"No – I…" Hermione looked around frantically. More people were looking her way now, "I-I live across town here."

"Darlin', if you had lived in this town, I would have met you a lot sooner!" The man breathed down her neck.

Nadia had taken out her wand now, "Well," She said gleefully, "Looks like I won't be needin' my paycheck this month!"

Before she could do anything, Hermione had thrown off the man's arm and inconspicuously pointed at Nadia with her wand in her sleeve to whisper, "_Obliviate!_"

Immediately, Nadia's eyes slid out of focus and she swayed on the spot before pouring two gigantic butterbeers in front of them, "On the house." She said blankly.

"Thank you." Squeaked Hermione, "Do you think you could also give me some of that potion you were talking about?"

Nadia looked at her in surprise, as if not noticing her presence until now, "Who'd ya say ya were?"

"A customer. I just paid, remember?" Hermione pressed.

"Righ'." Nadia frowned, "Righ', I'll get ya the potions."

As she turned to fumble with the jars under the table, Hermione wiped the poster of her face on the poster blank. Breathing a sigh of relief, she straightened up to look at Nadia again, "Can I also get a copy of the _Daily Prophet_? And some food, while you're at it?"

"Sure." Nadia said genially, handing over a huge tray of food and a magazine with the title _Witch Weekly_.

"Um, the _Daily Prophet_." Hermione emphasized.

"Take 'em all." Nadia replied, shoving a bunch of magazines in her arms along with the healing potions and herbs.

"Thank you very much!" Hermione beamed at her and stood up, shoving everything into her magically expanded bag.

The drunken man seemed to have realized that she was leaving, and he heaved himself up from the bar and staggered after her, "So, are we going to my place, darlin'?"

"I think I might need one more drink." Hermione said.

The man's face lit up and he turned to Nadia to order. While he still had his back to her, Hermione slipped through the door and started jogging back to the mansion.

She was willing to bet all her savings that Harry and Ron were behind the poster. They were obviously worried and concerned about her. She had to have been gone for…a week now? Hermione bit her lower lip. She would have to get a message to them, to let them know that she's okay, and that she would be back as soon as possible.

Which was…when, exactly?

She was harboring a fugitive now. As a Ministry official, she had an obligation to report any witnessed or suspected dark activities. And not only had she not reported them, she was conducting them herself. If the Ministry knew of her involvement, she would probably be sacked. Or worse. Was Draco really worth her life goal of helping other beings fight prejudice? Her lips thinned as she thought of how the Malfoys had treated Dobby, or how Draco had never passed on an opportunity to call her Mudblood. Draco Malfoy was all that was wrong with the world right now, and she was helping him! What was the matter with her?

But then the sight of him dragging her over the threshold of the Malfoy Manor came into mind. And the strain in his eyes, the blood from the corner of his mouth, and his shaking hand somehow replaced all those merciless actions he'd conducted. He wasn't the same person he was 4 years ago, no matter how hard he was trying to prove he was.

When Hermione pushed open the door of Draco's room, his otherwise dull eyes lit up momentarily at her arrival. She had a feeling that he didn't think she'd come back. She felt a prickle of pain in her heart when she realized that he must have been let down so many times that he had stopped counting on other people.

"Drink this," She handed over the bright purple potion rashly, avoiding his gaze, "And I got some herbs for your wound too."

Draco turned away obediently, exposing his back to her. With quavering fingers, Hermione took off the now bloodstained bandages and inhaled sharply at how deep the wound was. It started from the tip of his scapula, crossed over his spine, and extended to his waist. It was so deep that she could see bits of white of where his spine was. The wound stopped bleeding profusely almost the second Draco's lips touched the potion. Feeling somewhat assuaged, Hermione grinded the herbs with her wand until they were a dense, gooey, gel-like substance and carefully spread it over the bloody gash.

She felt him tense and immediately withdrew her hand, afraid of hurting him. "Sorry!"

He shook his head, and his light blond hair fell to canvas his face, "How bad is it?"

"Not that bad." Hermione lied, "It should heal within the week."

To her surprise, he smiled lightly. "You know, you're a terrible liar, Granger."

Hermione said nothing. As her hands resumed their preceding actions, her eyes drifted to the large tattoo on his left, inner forearm. It wasn't jet black anymore, but a faint greyish color. The serpent emerging from the savage skull was distorted into an ugly configuration, as though wrapping around his arm to brandish its domination.

"Is there anything you can do about that?" She asked quietly.

It took him a second to understand what she was referring to. His gaze dropped even lower at her pointed question, "No. It's going to be there forever." He mumbled darkly.

"No – I didn't mean it like that – " In her hastiness to explain, Hermione accidentally prodded him too hard, resulting in a low hiss from Draco, "Sorry! It's just…it's harder to…find work with that tattoo."

Draco laughed dryly, "If you haven't noticed, finding work isn't the first thing on my to-do list right now."

"No, I mean…" Hermione took a deep breath and tried to explain again, "The Ministry set up traps everywhere. An invisible barrier that detects the Dark Mark and prevents you from Disapparating within it. If someone with a Dark Mark crosses the barrier, the alarm is triggered and the Auror Office is notified of the location. That's how we caught most of the Death Eaters."

Draco turned around to look at her in disbelief, "Why are you telling me this?"

Out of all the questions she was expecting, she wasn't quite prepared for this particular one, "Well – I – I don't want you to get caught before you've healed now, do I?" She asked back, mustering a confidence she didn't feel, "I promised myself to at least let you get better, so that's what I'm going to do. And your back's done anyway." She finished quickly.

When he opened his mouth, she thought he was going to say thanks. He struggled with his words for a few seconds, but in the end all he did was throw her the wet towel that she had handed him earlier. "You have blood on your face." Draco drawled before leaving her with the sight of his hunched, desolated figure in the doorframe.

The sun had come up from the dark realms of the horizon, emanating a split of dazzling sunshine into the otherwise dimmed room. The placid lights cascaded down his back to blare a warm glow, and the shadows he wore around him were shone away for a moment.

But to Hermione, never had Draco Malfoy looked so lonely.

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_Thank you for your time!_


	5. Midnight Attack

_Warning: Fight scene_

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**Chapter 5 Midnight Attack**

The week following his escape from the Malfoy Manor had been the oddest week of Draco's life. Never had he thought that he would be _living_ with Hermione Granger. They had reached a mutual, unanimous decision not to speak of anything that happened in the past. It was almost like they had suddenly decided to be roommates out of nowhere. She had taken the guest bedroom that was right next to his, and was busying herself with scrutinizing the huge stack of _Daily Prophets_ she brought back. Sometimes late at night he could hear her shuffling through the pages.

"If the Death Eaters did something or killed someone, it would be in the papers." She said smartly.

Draco was more or less relieved that his parents' names had not been mentioned. He didn't think he would be able to deal with it if his parents had died. The ghost of his mother's last words to him still haunted him in his nightmares, and a huge part of him was guilt-ridden for leaving her there.

Hermione appeared to be very good with picking up emotions, for she never asked him to read the _Daily Prophet_ with her. Instead, she gave him a pile of _Witch Weekly_ to keep him occupied, since he was still stuck in bed because of his injury.

Bored out of his mind for lying in bed everyday, he started to read them, and was sorry he did at the first article he came across.

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_**Hermione Granger, A Thief of Hearts.**_

_By Romilda Vane_

_Hermione Granger, 22, previous member of Dumbledore's Army, current official in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Founder and Leader of Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, is no ordinary witch. Not only did she fight alongside The Chosen One, also known as Harry Potter, and his sidekick, Ronald Weasley, she was also dating the both of them – _

.

Draco choked on his water at this line.

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–_at the same time. Apparently just going out with The Boy Who Lived was not entertaining enough for her, for she had sank her claws into the best friend as well. _

"_She didn't like any of them," Says a close friend of Miss Granger's who prefers to remain anonymous, "She just has a liking for famous guys." This seems to be a reliable source since Miss Granger also dated Viktor Krum, the Seeker for the national Bulgarian Quidditch Team, when she was only in her fourth year at Hogwarts._

_Following Miss Granger's disappearance, Mr Potter and Mr Wealsey had organized a task force to find her. Whether they knew if they were played by the same girl or not is still unknown._

"_She's probably not even missing," The same source tells us, "She just liked the attention. She probably eloped with another guy or something."_

_Let's just hope that The Boy Who Loved does not end up with his heart broken when Miss Granger finally turns up._

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Although he was highly amused by this piece, Hermione had snatched it away from him when she caught him reading it, her cheeks burning furiously.

"Lies, obviously!" She snapped at the magazine, "That Romilda Vane has got it in for me! Of course I would never – well – "

"Date Viktor Krum or Weasley?" Draco asked lazily.

Her faced got, if possible, even more scarlet, "I – well – that's none of your business." She seethed before leaving the room. Draco was smirking at her retreat before he recognized the sensation within. He felt…light. For the first time in four years, he was content. Even though the gash in his back showed no sign of healing, and Death Eaters could burst through the doors at any second, he felt more relaxed than he did for as long as he could remember. It had been so long since he had a normal conversation with someone his own age. Days after days he spent locked up in the Malfoy Manor, worrying about his bleak future, with only Council meetings to look forward to, where only more fear was anticipated. It had been so barren of warmth and stripped of comfort that he went days, even weeks, without speaking a word to his parents. However lamentable his situation was now, at least he had someone to keep him company.

As for Hermione, she had taken the liberty of feeding them. The food from the village that she got a week ago was running low, but Draco knew she didn't dare go back again in case someone recognized her and reported the sighting to the Ministry. Instead, she had started a series of failed Transfigurations of useless things into edible cooking. When one day she brought him something that looked like hot, dusty coals, he pushed the plate away in disgust.

"What is this supposed to be?" He asked, revolted.

"They're mushrooms." Hermione said in a hurt voice.

"I'm not eating that." Draco scowled.

Hermione crossed her arms indignantly, "Then you can starve, because we're completely out of food and I'm not risking my life going out there so your stomach can be happy."

He raised an eyebrow at her coldly before flicking his wand in the general direction of the burnt out candle by his bedside. It immediately got Transfigured to a plate of toast.

"How'd you – " Hermione was so surprised that she forgot to be cross with him.

"I'm _wanted_, Granger." He said dispassionately, "How did you think I got by these years? I can hardly walk into a store now, can I?"

She went silent and looked at her feet. When she spoke again, it was on a completely different matter, "The potion is almost out, too."

Draco's stomach turned over. He had hoped this wouldn't come up. His wound had been okay when he drank the potion, but a day without it made his back bleed like mad, and neither Hermione nor him had found a way to stop that. They had instead pretended that this wasn't a problem and continued down the blissful road of denial, but now it seemed like they could ignore it no more.

He expected her to say that she will be on her way from now on; that she'd done everything she could for him, and that she will turn him in to the Ministry now. But she looked up at him with hard, unyielding brown eyes and said, "You have to go to St Mungo's."

Draco hesitated, surprised again at her decisions, "I told you, Granger, I can't."

"I have it planned out," She said quickly, "There's this Healer that I know – Hannah Abbott – from Hogwarts. If I can ask her to take a look at your wound, we wouldn't even need to go in. For cautionary procedures, we will of course be in disguise – maybe make your hair darker. But I think it might work. There is a run down Muggle toy factory close to St Mungo's that we can use for hideouts."

Draco looked at her gleaming eyes, stunned by all the effort she put into a hypothesized plan, "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Since – since the day we got here, of course."

He fell silent and lowered his gaze so he wouldn't have to look at those hopeful brown eyes. The restrained, foreign feeling of gratitude inside him fought to be let out, but he kept it buried deep within. He knew why it was so hard to accept her help – he had despised her status for as long as he could remember. He was raised and taught to always look down on Mudbloods; to see them as an embarrassment to the Wizarding race. Yet now, his life depended on one. And not just any Mudblood, but the Mudblood that he spent so long terrorizing and taunting; the Mudblood that was his enemy's best friend. How could he _possibly_ feel thankful towards her and express gratitude?

"Let me think about it." He finally said after what seemed like a century.

She did not push him but merely nodded and left him in peace.

That same night, Draco lied in bed for hours not able to sleep. The confliction inside was gnarling at him. He didn't want to spend any more time with her, but he also knew that he would die without her. She was right about his wound – if he couldn't drag himself to St Mungo's, he'd likely bleed to death sooner or later. But accepting her help meant more time with her, and his thoughts towards her were already changing drastically enough as it is. The idea that he was actually starting to enjoy her company scared him as much as the remaining Death Eaters did.

Draco scowled at himself and put his hand over his forehead. He didn't need this now. He was lucky to be alive, and he planned on staying that way. Having Hermione Granger around was beneficial to him, so he should take full advantage of that. As for what happens to her later on, that didn't involve him.

A rustle of bushes sounded somewhere close by, and Draco immediately pulled his wand out, watchful of his surroundings. He muttered the human-presence-revealing-spell under his breath but received no indication of anyone being in proximity.

Draco breathed out deeply and fell back into his pillows, ignoring the pain in his back. He would agree to go to St Mungo's with her, and ditch her there once he has been healed. His lips thinned at how exceedingly reprehensible those actions were. But then again, he was never known to have some kind of hero-complex, like Potter did.

Suddenly, he felt ten years older. The acknowledgment that the peaceful days in his grandfather's house were over hit him harder than he expected it to. Starting now, he would have to be on the run again, living day to day, hoping that he doesn't get caught.

The rustling resumed, now even louder than before, and was accompanied by a low growling sound. Before Draco could comprehend what it sounded like, a huge black creature broke through the glass window to his room, showering him with shards of broken glass.

Draco covered his face with his arms and roared in pain as the glass cut across his skin. Hot, moist breaths of the beast were so close that he felt drips of saliva on his neck.

"_Impedimenta!_" He yelled, and the monster was thrown off him. Draco's eyes took a few moments to adjust to the darkness. When the beast climbed back up slowly, still growling, Draco inhaled sharply. He had recognized what it was.

A werewolf.

Its yellow lamp-like eyes were narrowed dangerously, and its snarl rumbled across the room. Its salivating mouth opened and revealed long, sharp fangs. It stood up on its hind legs, and towered over Draco.

"_Stupefy!_" Draco shouted, but the spell merely bounced off its chest. The discomfort angered the werewolf, and it lunged at him, claws outstretched.

Draco rolled across the bed and onto the floor to avoid the attack but the beast had already gotten up before he could. Its mouth snapped dangerously close to his ankle that a shred of cloth from his pant leg was ripped off.

"Malfoy?" Came Hermione's muffled voice through the wall, but he didn't have time to reply.

"_Incarcerous!_" Draco thundered. Ropes flew out of his wand and tightened around the beast's torso, immobilizing it.

The werewolf howled in rage and flexed its strong limbs to break free. Before it could, Draco had shot another curse straight into its ribcage, "_Crucio!_"

Its howls turned into roars and it threw off the curse along with the ropes. It snarled at Draco but retreated back a little.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Draco snarled back, but the Killing Curse missed the beast. It sensed the extremity of the spell and fled the room, straight into –

A high-pitched scream tore through the transitory silence like a knife.

"GRANGER!" Draco bellowed, and he jumped over the rubble of broken floorboards towards the doorway. He almost slipped on a piece of fragmented glass but managed to pull himself back up. Within seconds, he had reached Hermione's room.

She was struggling as the werewolf attempted to bite her. Her wand had fallen and rolled across the floor to the other side of the room, and she was fighting to keep it off by shoving her pillow into its jaw.

"_Crucio!_" He said again, afraid of using the Killing Curse in case it hit Hermione. The beast howled in pain but threw the curse off almost immediately, given its prior contact with it.

Draco advanced, shooting spell after spell both verbally and silently into the werewolf's back, but none of the spells seemed to work. Outraged at the curses, the monster discarded Hermione and pounced at Draco instead, its mouth opened so wide that it could have swallowed his entire head.

Tumbling down they went, both man and beast in a tight embrace. Hermione didn't lose her head during this crucial time; she leapt for her wand on the ground and aimed it straight at the werewolf, "_Diffindo!_"

A large cut appeared on the side of the struggling monster, but the curse was so strong that it hit Malfoy as well and his arm was sliced open.

Hermione raised her wand again, but the werewolf's hind paw, the length of Hermione's entire forearm, caught her in the wrist hard and kicked the wand away. Hermione let out a cry of pain and exasperation as she clutched her injured wrist.

Draco's arms were trembling under the weight of the beast. All he could think about was to not let it claw him or bite him, which seemed almost impossible in his case. Suddenly, he saw Hermione's wand rolling towards him. Gasping, he threw out a hand and caught it.

He raised both wands and targeted the werewolf's underbelly, "_STUPEFY!_"

The increased power of the spell threw it backwards. Although still not stunned, the beast let out a whimper and jumped out the window, not wanting to risk its life any longer.

For a moment, both of them remained where they were: Draco lying on his back on the floor, panting; and Hermione collapsed against the wall, gripping her injured wrist.

"Are you okay?" Draco finally choked out.

"Yes," She squeaked, "You?"

"Fine." Draco replied, though his face contorted into a wince as he struggled to get up. He had tore open the cut on his back, and now he had a new one on his arm.

Hermione hurried over and took her wand from him. She fixed the cut on his arm and her own wrist with a few sharp waves.

"How did it get in?" She whispered fearfully, "I put protective enchantments all around the house. It shouldn't even be able to see this place."

"The smell of blood." Draco answered shortly, "We have to leave right now."

"What? Why?"

He turned to look at her, "Almost all werewolves are in line with Fenrir Greyback. When this one tells Greyback where it found me, the Death Eaters are going to come charging in. Greyback's a part of the Council."

Hermione's eyes filled with terror, but she did not cower, "I'll pack the things."

Draco gave an insignificant nod and made for his way towards his room.

"Malfoy," She called suddenly to his back and he paused, "…Thank you." Hermione said appreciatively.

Draco's back tensed. He wanted to say something back, but he didn't know what to say. In the end, he simply nodded again, hoping that she would understand.

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	6. Healer Hannah

**Chapter 6. Healer Hannah**

Hannah Abbott pulled her blond hair into a ponytail and tied it with a mahogany ribbon her mother had given to her during her second year at Hogwarts. She mumbled the memorized healing spells under her breath as she brushed out the knots in her hair. As a trainee Healer, she couldn't afford to mess up. She needed this experience to apply for her ultimate dream job – the Matron position at Hogwarts.

Her pink face flushed rosy at the thought of walking through those familiar castle corridors with _him _again. She knew that he had been lecturing part-time there as the substitute Herbology Professor. Subconsciously, her hand travelled to the locket she wore around her neck. Others didn't know, but she carried two photos inside it. One of her mother, who had passed away at the hands of Death Eaters six years ago. And one, of the boy she had loved for as long as she could remember. The photo of him was cropped from a group photo of the entire Dumbledore's Army. It was taken right after the war. He was tired and bloody, but laughing all the same. His arm was around a girl with dirty blond hair, who was smiling dreamily up at the camera.

It wasn't her, of course. Hannah had stood timidly at the other side, near the corner of the frame. She had cut out the portion of the photo that had his round face on it from the _Daily Prophet_ and pocketed it carefully inside her locket; deliberately chopping off the girl he was hugging.

"_Hurry up! The next subway leaves in ten minutes!_" A shrill voice from her pocket screeched, making her jump. It was her pocket watch, a birthday gift from Hermione Granger, who, according to all the major newspapers out there, had been missing for almost three weeks.

Hannah clumsily put a coat around herself and ran for the door. She wasn't a Healer yet, and didn't have the authority to Apparate directly into St Mungo's Hospital for Maladies and Injuries. She, along with a few other trainees, had to take the subway there with the Muggles.

By chance, Hannah ran into Padma Patil on the tube again, her fellow colleague at St Mungo's and former classmate from Hogwarts.

"Hey, Hannah!" Padma said cheerfully, pushing through the crowd to stand beside Hannah.

"Hi." Hannah smiled back. She wished she had Padma's knack of fashion. Padma's sleek, dark hair was twisted into a complicated knot and held in place by a delicate, ornamental swan. Her lashes were thick and curly, and she had painted her lips a bold color of flamingo pink. The few male trainees they had on their floor were all quite taken with her. Hannah looked sadly at her blurred reflection through the windows of the subway. Her own hair was straw-like and in its same boring ponytail, and her eyes looked puffy and tired.

"Did you read the newest update on _Witch Weekly_?" Padma asked gleefully, excited to share the gossip.

"Yes." Hannah admitted rather shyly. She always read the articles because they occasionally mentioned _him_, "Harry was named head of the task force to find Hermione."

"Not _that_ one, silly!" Padma giggled, "I meant the piece by Romilda Vane! Who knew Hermione Granger was dating Harry Potter and Ron Weasley at the same time? I mean, I know Ron's always fancied Hermione. I went to the Yule Ball with him, you know? He couldn't keep his eyes off her all night, even when I was wearing those turquoise dress robes!"

"Do you think she's okay?" Hannah asked nervously, "No one has heard from her in ages."

"I'm sure she's fine." Padma replied dismissively, "In fact, I hear that Neville Longbottom says Hermione sent a Patronus to the Auror Office, stating that she was unhurt and will return shortly."

Hannah's eyes bulged at the mention of his name, "Y-You're in contact with Neville?" She asked a little too keenly, but Padma didn't notice.

"No, I'm close to Luna. She was in Ravenclaw with me. She told me when I picked up a copy of the newest _Quibbler_ last week. You know Luna, right?"

"Yes." Hannah said rather stiffly.

"Do you read the _Quibbler_?" Padma asked again.

"No." Hannah sniffed, "I hear it's rubbish." She added immaturely.

Padma giggled again, "It's actually gotten quite good! It contradicts everything Romilda Vane writes! It's like Luna and Romilda are having verbal fights through their magazines! Luna insists that Hermione was 'not that kind of girl' and that Romilda's 'so-called source is as existent as a pigmy-warbler'."

"What's a pigmy-warbler?" Hannah asked blankly.

"No idea! Something nonexistent, I suppose?"

"But she's right." Hannah admitted unwillingly, "Hermione's one of the nicest girls I know. She is nothing like what Romilda Vane describes."

Padma nodded, though she looked unconvinced, "I guess so. Luna's good friends with her, she would know now, wouldn't she?"

Hannah didn't feel comfortable talking about Luna Lovegood anymore. "So how is Parvati?" She asked purposely, attempting to change the subject.

"Good. She's actually stopping by St Mungo's today." Padma informed her, "She's visiting Lavender Brown."

"Are Lavender's symptoms acting up again?" Hannah asked sadly. Ever since Lavender fell victim to Fenrir Greyback's attack four years ago, she had been unstable, exhibiting signs of wolfish nature even when it wasn't full moon.

"No, it's not that. She tried to do a homespun spell with the same properties as the Wolfsbane Potion, but it didn't go well and now she's in bed rest on the fourth floor."

Hannah's eyes lit up a bit. "Fourth floor? I-I guess I'll go visit her." She said guiltily, hoping that Padma won't sense her ulterior motive.

"Are you close with Lavender?" Padma asked curiously.

"No, but it'd be nice to visit." Hannah muttered and looked down at her shoes. In truth, she was hoping to run into Neville. He often visited his parents, who were also on the fourth floor of St Mungo's.

"Well, I'll see you up there!" Padma said brightly as the subway skidded to a halt. "I've got to go, I'm already late. Let's meet for lunch later?"

Hannah nodded as Padma dashed away. She clutched the straps to her bags tightly and felt a small smile on her face. She might be able to see him today. How romantic would it be if she 'accidentally' ran into him? Hannah kept her head down and walked quickly out of the subway station, not wanting to draw attention to her flushed cheeks.

She headed straight towards the old, battered red building that concealed the entrance to St Mungo's while letting herself daydream. It had been so long since she last saw him. She wondered how he was doing, and whether he managed to pass his Auror training yet. Her heart skipped a few beats when she imagined herself as the Matron in the Hospital Wing while he was the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts. How perfect would that be?

"_Hannah!_"

Hannah whipped her head up and blinked. Did she just imagine the urgent whisper? Or was it her pocket watch again? Hannah looked around curiously before picking up her pace, assuming that she fabricated the voice.

"_Hannah!_" The voice said again.

It was definitely real this time. Hannah looked around again. The only person in sight was a schoolgirl in front of the rundown Muggle toy factory. But the girl was staring at her intently, as if recognizing her.

"Do I know you?" Hannah asked the girl with the bushy brunette pigtails.

"It's me!" The girl whispered, gesturing for Hannah to follow her into the toy factory. There was something very familiar in her voice. And her face, although a lot more youthful, reminded her of someone else too.

"_Hermione?_" Hannah gasped.

The girl nodded and grabbed her hand, almost dragging her along, "In here, quickly!"

Hannah gaped as she let herself get hauled into the factory by the disguised Hermione. It was dark and gloomy inside, accompanied by the gentle sounds of dripping water from the broken pipes.

"What are you doing here? The papers said you were missing – " Hannah started.

"I'm fine." The young Hermione explained hurriedly, "My friend isn't though. He's really hurt, can you take a look at him?"

Hannah was utterly bewildered now, "Yes, of course. Just bring him into St Mungo's."

Hermione looked uncomfortable at the suggestion, "That's the thing – I can't. He can't be seen."

"Well, we can bring him in the back entrance if he – "

"He can't be seen by other Healers either." Hermione said, her young face written with anxiety.

Hannah looked at her curiously. Even with that girlish face, she could still see the worry Hermione held inside. She seemed to be extremely agitated.

"What's going on?" Hannah asked softly.

Hermione bit her lip, "I'm sorry, Hannah. I can't tell you. Can I ask you to trust me?"

Hannah stared into those concerned brown eyes. She thought for a few seconds, contemplating the outcomes. She didn't think Hermione would ask if it weren't important. And her reasons must be, too. Slowly, Hannah nodded.

Hermione's face broke into a smile and she hugged her tightly before letting go. "Thank you!" She exclaimed. Grabbing Hannah's hand, Hermione led her over to the corner of the room where a young man stood. Judging from his shadow, he was tall and lean, had floppy chestnut hair, and thin square glasses.

As Hannah approached, he watched her fastidiously, obviously not trusting her.

"It's alright." Hermione told the man soothingly, "Hannah's agreed to help us."

Hannah noticed how Hermione looked at him. The affection and sentiment she had for him was obvious. This must be someone she held in endearment.

The young man stepped into the light hesitantly, and Hannah's gaze immediately locked onto his face. His features were handsome, to say the very least. His fringe was little too long, covering the top of his aloof grey eyes. His lips were thinned in disapproval, as if not expecting Hannah to cure him at all. His figure was slim and lanky. A little too thin, Hannah thought. She wondered if he had been malnourished recently.

Hermione mentioned for him to turn around, and he obliged reluctantly, revealing a blood-stained back.

Hannah gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. As Hermione carefully unwrapped the bandages, a deep cut into the man's back was slowly disclosed. Hannah could hardly believe her eyes: with a cut like that, it was a wonder he was still standing.

"H-How?" Hannah stammered faintly.

"It was a curse." Hermione said diffidently, "And it won't stop bleeding."

Hannah walked a bit closer and examined the wound carefully. It looked very fresh, though she doubted that he had just been hurt, "How long ago was this?"

"Around ten days."

Hannah swallowed, "There might be something I can do."

Hermione was ecstatic, "Oh, Hannah, are you sure?" She grasped both of Hannah's hands in her own in gratitude.

Hannah managed a weak smile, "I-I think so. There was a case just like this a few months ago. A man came in with the same injury on his leg. A Healer on my floor cured him. I just have to ask her." She finished, hoping that Hermione won't be too disappointed with her answer.

On the contrary, Hermione's eyes lit up with hope and she nodded enthusiastically. "_Thank you_, Hannah."

"Just… wait here for me." Hannah pressed. Following another nod from Hermione, she quickly made for the door.

Hermione, however, caught her arm and pulled her back, "Hannah, you mustn't tell anyone that you saw me." She said in a low voice, her eyes round with fear.

"I won't." Hannah agreed.

Fifteen minutes later, Hannah Abbott came out of St Mungo's front door with the front of her robes bulging with the potions and herbs she "borrowed" from the medicine ward. She had convinced the head Healer to explain to her exactly how to deal with the wound. She even caught sight of Neville on her way downstairs. Obviously, he didn't see her. He was with Luna Lovegood, who was wearing large radish earrings and carrying a bouquet of colorful wild flowers, no doubt to give to Neville's parents. They were deep in conversation, so Hannah sniffed and walked away. The locket around her neck was suddenly very heavy for some reason.

When she reached the first floor of the building, Hannah noticed the large posters of the missing Hermione stuck on the pillars near the entrance. In the picture, Hermione's hair was brushed away from her face, and she looked serious and thoughtful. Surely the photo was taken from at a conference. Hannah felt guilty as she passed by the posters. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

Her eyes darted back and forth as she exited the building. She had a weird feeling that someone was watching her. Across the street, a few businessmen were definitely looking her way. But as she watched them, they quickly engaged in conversation, as if not noticing her at all.

Hannah shook her head and ran towards the toy factory as fast as she could. When she reached Hermione and the young man, she could see that Hermione had discarded her youthful disguise and was back to her normal self. The apprehension on her adult face was even more apparent.

As Hannah worked silently on the cut on the young man's back, Hermione peered over her shoulder, wordlessly learning the procedure.

"Continue this for a fortnight." Hannah explained between gasps of breaths from running, "When the bleeding stops completely, you can apply dittany to the wound. Here – I brought some for you."

Hermione nodded in appreciation.

"A-And have you been eating Transfigured foods lately?" Hannah asked the man.

His back went rigid. It looked like he had not been expecting her to address him directly. "Yes." He finally said stiffly after a very long silence.

"You mustn't." Hannah replied, "Transfigured foods don't have the same nutrients that regular foods do due to – "

"– the nature of the spell caster's knowledge on the appearance of the foods rather than the intrinsic values!" Hermione finished, clasping a hand to her forehead, "Of course, we learned this in Transfiguration years ago! I should have known!"

"It's alright! As long as he gets a proper diet from now on, he'll – "

A piercing pain hit Hannah square on her back and she let out an excruciating scream of agony. Before she could turn around to see what had caused the pain, Hermione was already on her feet, pointing her shaking wand towards whatever was standing behind Hannah and casting a dark shadow upon her.

The young dark-haired man had jumped back as well, his wand raised steadily, his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Well, well, well." Said a horrible, bone-piercing voice behind Hannah, "What a surprise… Sleeping with the enemy now, are we, Draco?"

Hannah gasped as her eyes found the pointed face of the young man. His cheeks were tinged with embarrassment and anger. The dark hair obscured his forehead, but the rest of his bone structures were clear. A familiar snarl curled up his thin lips, and she finally recognized him for who he really was – Draco Malfoy.

Hannah gulped and turned around to see the source of the voice. It was one of the Muggle businessmen that she saw earlier. He didn't look professional anymore. A cold smile that looked more like a scowl was on his distorted face, and his wand was raised so high that his sleeve was pulled back, revealing the Dark Mark. His fellow companions stood behind him, all with their wands pointed at them.

There was no way out: they were surrounded.

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_*NOTE:_

_Transfigured Foods__: They look and taste the same as the regular foods, but they don't have the same amount of minerals/vitamins/protein, etc. _

_Luna Lovegood__: Editor and journalist of the Quibbler. _

_Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this. Please let me know about your opinion(s) on reading the story from another character's perspective._


	7. St Mungo's

_Warning: Coarse language, fight scene_

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**Chapter 7. St Mungo's**

"You know, Draco, Lucius would have been proud." Rookwood cackled loudly, "You are just as spineless as he is. Like father, like son, I suppose."

A few other Death Eaters chuckled at the remark.

Hermione watched Draco from the corner of her eye. He was breathing heavily, though his wand did not waver.

Seeing that Draco did not reply, Rookwood smiled nastily and continued on, "I was surprised. I didn't expect you to shack up with a Mudblood."

"Shut up." Draco snarled.

"Seems to have hit a nerve!" Rookwood said delightedly, "Tell me, was it because you wanted something _filthy_ in the bedroom?"

Hermione stayed calm as if the piercing insults weren't even about her. Unobtrusively, she considered their situation. They were outnumbered ten to three, and they were cornered. Hannah was quietly whimpering behind her, and Hermione knew she was scared beyond her wits. She couldn't see how they were going to get out of this one unscathed.

Rowle was advancing from behind Rookwood. He, too, was wearing a vile leer on his face, "I guess she's not bad to look at… Greyback wouldn't mind screwing her."

Fenrir Greyback gave a low, perverted snigger from the back.

"Shut up!" Draco repeated a little angrier than before.

"Careful now, Draco." Rookwood said softly, motioning towards the army of men he had standing behind him, "Don't jeopardize your last chance here. We're giving you a choice. Are you going to stand with us, or against us?"

Hermione's heart tightened. Were they offering him an out? If he took it, there would be no hope for herself and Hannah. Her eyes darted to the entrance of the toy factory; it was completely blocked by the towering figures in front of her.

It took Draco a millennium to decide. Finally, he walked slowly out of the shadows. Hermione's heart fell as he stepped over the invisible threshold that divided them and into the mass of Death Eaters.

Rowle clapped him on the back, "Good choice." He growled.

Draco said nothing. Hermione stared at him accusingly, the disappointment inside weighing her down so much that she felt like she couldn't stand. She had wanted to believe that he was different now, that he had changed, if even for a bit. She had thought that their time together had somewhat of an impact on him. She hadn't realized how badly she wanted him to change until she watched him choose his allegiance. She wished desperately that she hadn't put her life on the line, along with Hannah's, to help him.

He did not look away from her burning gaze. Deliberately, his eyes swept up to the ceiling and back again, so swiftly that Hermione almost didn't catch it.

"Now, to prove your loyalty…" Rookwood said darkly, the smile stretching so far that the corners of his mouth looked close to tearing, "Why don't you kill your little Mudblood fuck-buddy?"

Hermione heard Hannah choke back a scream of fear. She swallowed and glanced back at Draco, afraid to see his reaction. He caught her eye and quickly looked up at the ceiling again.

As inconspicuously as possible, Hermione looked up as well. All she saw were those old, leaking pipes.

"Not a problem, is it?" Rookwood asked again.

"No." Draco replied. Taking a deep breath, he stood out of the line once again and faced Hermione, pointing his wand straight at her heart.

Hermione didn't falter. She was ready for the worst to come. If Draco attempted to hurt her, she would grab Hannah and Disapparate. She was only putting it off because she dreadfully wanted to believe that Draco wouldn't purposely hurt her.

"Do it!" Rowle urged, annoyed with Draco's delay.

Hermione held her breath as she inched back until her arm brushed against Hannah's. She grasped Hannah's cold, trembling hand in hers and readied herself.

Draco's Adam's apple bobbled as he gulped. He was directly in front of Hermione now. He had a resolute look on his camouflaged face. And his thin arm stretched over to raise his wand, preparing for the lethal movement of the curse –

"_Reducto!_" Draco yelled, directing his wand away sharply at the last second. He blasted open the old pipes above and sent scrap metal parts flying in all directions. Strong streams of waters shot out as well, showering them all and creating a mist like illusion to shroud them from view.

There were suddenly a lot of angry shouts and swears from the Death Eaters. As they sent sparks and curses everywhere, Draco charged out of the mist and straight at them, his hair flattened onto his pointed face by the water.

"This way!" Hermione cried as she led them towards the doors. She allowed herself one luxurious second to feel the comfort of knowing that Draco had not betrayed her.

As the trio ran, hexes shot behind, and the entire army chased after them.

Hermione ducked as a deadly curse flew above her head, stinging her hair. Hannah shot back a silent spell to blast apart more pipes. Before Hermione could do the same, an explosion blew nearby and threw them off their feet. Hannah gave a small squeal and disappeared out of sight.

"We're not going to make it!" Draco yelled, "We have to Disapparate!"

"What about Hannah?" Hermione asked furiously.

Draco dragged them behind a wall to avoid the ongoing battle. He shot a couple of spells in the general direction of the chaos, "Leave her!"

"We can't! She risked her life trying to help us! To help _you_!" Hermione spat angrily, emerging from the other side of the wall and joining Draco's attack.

"Fine! Then we'll take her with us!" Draco shouted over the commotion.

"Are you mad? We can't just wretch her from her life and force her to go on the run with us!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" He asked back heatedly.

There was another explosion nearby and jagged rocks from the concrete ceiling came crashing down on them. Draco draped his arm around Hermione and shielded her from harm almost instinctively. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the weight of the stones colliding onto his arm.

What could they do?

She had no idea where Hannah was, or even if she was alive or not. One wrong move, and they'd all die here. The only way to protect Hannah now was to draw the Death Eaters away from the toy factory. But even if she succeeded, she had no idea how that would affect their chances of survival if she brought the fight under broad daylight. Innocent Muggles might get hurt in the process.

"Hurry!"

"I'm thinking! I'm thinking!" Hermione cried. She knew Draco couldn't hold them off much longer, but she didn't know what to do. They were stuck here – there was no way whatsoever – they were going to die –

Hermione gasped.

There _was_ a way!

"Cover me!" She yelled to Draco as she climbed to her feet.

Before she could take one more step, he had grabbed her wrist and forced her to crouch down to avoid another lethal curse, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I have to lure them to St Mungo's!"

"Are you crazy? Why in the – "

"The barrier, Malfoy!" Hermione cut him off hurriedly, "The barrier I told you about that notifies the Auror Office when someone with a Dark Mark crosses over! There's bound to be one around the hospital in case any Death Eater disguised themselves for the need of medical care!"

He looked at her wild expression in surprise, "That's – brilliant – I – " He spluttered out a few words before pulling himself back together, "I'll go. You stay here and – "

"No." Hermione whispered, "You can't. You have the Dark Mark too, and I don't know where the boundary of the barrier ends. You can't risk getting trapped."

"So it's okay if you risk _your_ life?" Draco demanded indignantly, "You don't even know if the barrier's there or not!"

A weak, twisted smile appeared on Hermione's trembling lips. He didn't even know it, but he had come so far. Far beyond her imagination.

"I think you should take your own advice earlier and not care whether I live or die." She said softly.

He stood there, stunned at her words for a second. And that second was all she needed from him. Turning on her heels, Hermione ran for the door, her eyes determined, hard, and incapable of failure.

"Granger!" She heard him roar after her, but did not turn back.

The tuberosity of spells that flew past her indicated that the Death Eaters have sighted her. She could faintly hear Draco screaming hexes after hexes back at them. But Hermione didn't dare fire any curses backwards in fear of them ricocheting and hitting Hannah or Draco.

"_Protego!_" She cried as she attempted to block yet another unknown course. It blasted a hole in the ground and threw her off her feet, luckily in the same direction of the door. Hermione shrieked out the Cushioning Spell at the last second to break her fall. She fell on her side gently and rolled around to crawl back up again – the doorway was right in front of her.

"The Mudblood is getting away!"

"Get her, you imbecile! No – leave Malfoy to me!"

But before the spells could reach her, Hermione had burst out the door and into the blinding sunlight.

As she staggered towards the front gate of St Mungo's, pedestrians on the streets gaped at her. The sight of a dirty, drenched, and bleeding young woman was so alarming that several Muggles took out their phones to call the ambulance.

"Get back!" Hermione yelled at them, knowing very well that they were unlikely to listen to her. She must look like a madwoman right now. "_Protego Maxima!_" She casted a large radius for the Shield Charm and hoped that it would protect the defenseless Muggles from the rebounding curses.

Her unfocused attention of her own surroundings exposed her to more attacks, and Greyback's stubby, claw-like hand grabbed onto the neck of her sweatshirt and pulled her back. Hermione cried out in revulsion as his sour breath belched into her nostrils.

"Pretty feisty, aren't you, dollface?" Greyback growled. He stuck out his salivating tongue and ran it down Hermione's check, as if tasting her.

Hermione shuddered involuntarily, every nerve within her screaming in protest. But his grip on her was too tight to struggle against, and her wand was clamped under her arm –

"_Hermione!_"

A shot of red sparks flew past her and hit Greyback on his shoulder. He grunted and let go of her. Immediately, a second pair of hands grabbed her arm and pulled her back into safety.

"Luna?" Hermione asked blankly.

Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had come out of St Mungo's. Together, they stood in front of her like a pair of human shields, their wands infallible.

"Get inside, both of you!" Neville said authoritatively, the usual clumsy, insecure manner completely nonexistent. He aimed a well-conducted curse at Greyback.

"I'm not leaving you here." Luna replied calmly although stubbornly. She, too, wore the same determined look on her face.

Breathing heavily, Hermione stood up and joined the duel. "Hannah – " She gasped, "She's still in the toy factory."

Neville nodded hard to indicate that he heard her. He flung a Stunning Spell at Greyback vigorously.

Hermione's mind was racing: they were already almost right in front of the hospital; and they were bound to have crossed into the barrier already. Why were there no Aurors here? Could it be that she had been wrong? That she had left Draco and Hannah for nothing? And that the rest of the Death Eaters were still in the toy factory where they were?

Greyback howled angrily, baring his teeth at them. He fell back a few steps and staggered.

A horrible sensation filled Hermione.

_Greyback was a werewolf! He didn't have the Dark Mark!_

Hermione turned wildly to look at the toy factory. Draco had run out as well, and he had at least five other Death Eaters on him. Quite a few broken toy parts were flying in the air, striking the Death Eaters. No doubt had he conducted Transfiguration on them.

Their eyes met across the battleground.

His were confused, and hers were panicked. She didn't know whether he understood the gravity of the situation. The other Death Eaters were too cautious to come any closer to St Mungo's, given the amount of Healers inside. They were retreating back to the toy factory, where Hannah still laid. Some had already Apparated. The rest were shooting hexes from afar, and purposely hurting the civilians as well.

Suddenly, Draco Disapparated.

Hermione's heart sunk so low that she felt like it had fallen out of her body and that she didn't have a heart anymore. She didn't blame him. He was in a difficult position. It was the smart thing to do.

So why does it feel so awful?

Where would he go? Will she ever see him again?

Then, several things happened at once.

Draco reappeared right beside Hermione, and startled her to jump back. Neville and Luna both cried out in surprise as well, and various other figures began to Apparate within their circle – Draco had triggered the alarm the barrier held and the Aurors were here.

"What are you doing – you won't be able to – " Hermione shouted over the multiple screams at Draco. There were tears in her eyes, although she didn't know whether it was because of the dust or that she was so worried.

"Only way I could think of to get them here." Draco growled, his chest heaving from breathing so fast. His lip was bleeding copiously, running down his pointed chin and into the neck of his dirt-covered shirt.

"Hermione! Are you alright?"

Hermione's mouth opened but no words came out. Just a few feet away from her, stood Harry and Ron. Both of them looked tired and close to their limit. There were stubbles on their faces and dark circles under their eyes. But the one thing they had most in common were the concern they held for her displayed clearly across they faces.

Hermione bit down on her lower lip hard to will herself not to cry.

Draco would get caught here, and sent to Azkaban. His back was still injured. And he had just saved all their lives. She knew what she had to do, though the reason for doing so was not so justified.

Her hand found Draco's arm she grabbed it tightly.

She needed to get him out of this barrier. She owed him at least that much.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, running towards her as he realized what she was about to do.

But it was far too late. His anxious face was the last thing she saw before she turned on the spot and Disapparated, taking Draco along with her.

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_Thank you for reading!_

_.  
After this chapter is where the "living as Muggles" part of the story starts._


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